The Emerald Bottle
by xoxodancexoxo
Summary: Wicked fic. Oneshot. Based on the book, Wicked. Wizard's POV at the end of the story. PG13 just to be safe.


Hey everyone, this is my first fic (so go easy on me!) I wrote this because I've always wondered what the Wizard of Oz was thinking during this scene. Mostly based on the book Wicked, but has some origins from the movie Wizard of Oz, musical Wicked, etc.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or settings from Wicked or The Wizard of Oz.

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It was about four in the afternoon when she came back.

            "Your Highness, Dorothy Gale is here to see you. Should I send her in?" the guard called from outside my door.

            Honestly, I was in complete and utter shock. The Wicked Witch of the West isn't easily murdered. I know. I've tried. It's a miracle that the girl even managed to get out with all body parts intact, let alone _kill _the Witch,which I am assuming she did, since she's still alive. 

            "Yes, yes, send her in," was about all I could muster.

            The heavy green doors opened and not only was Dorothy there, but all of her little companions were there too, the metal one, the straw one, the hairy one, and a young stocky boy, who couldn't have been more than fourteen or fifteen, that I didn't recognize. I used every fiber of self-control that I possessed to keep my amazement off my face. 

            "You killed her?" I asked incredulously.

            Dorothy, with her pretty blue and white dress and brown curls (and those shoes that I would love to pry her feet out of) stepped forward and said, somewhat shyly, as though she didn't want to offend me, "Yes, sir, the Witch is dead. I do hope that is what you wanted, for it was an awfully sad business."

            My mind was doing flip-flops. This wasn't possible. No _ten-year-old_ could kill a full grown _Witch_, for goodness sake. Finally the solution came to me: _It's all a hoax. This stupid girl thought she could trick me. She didn't kill the Witch. She didn't even have the broom!_

"You're lying," I said evenly.

            Her eyes opened wide. "Oh no, sir, it's the honest truth! I'd swear it on all of Auntie Em and Uncle Henry's farm!"

            Fury overtook me. How dare this tiny girl think she could outsmart the Wizard of Oz! "Then where is her broom?" I bellowed. "THIS IS A NASTY JOKE!"

            The boy came towards me. "It's true! I was there! I saw it!"

            "Who are you?" I cried. "What do you have to do with this?"

            The boy stood silent for a long time. I was about to scream, "Answer me!," when he said, "I am Liir. And the Witch- Auntie Witch- was my mother. Before we left Kiamo Ko, Nanny- Auntie Witch's old nanny, that is- told me. Told me the truth. And I saw her die."

            _This _really made me dizzy. _The Witch had a son?_ When? And how? All I could reply was, "_You _saw her die. Well, it's your word against mine, Spawn of the Monster, and _you _have no evidence."

            The hairy one piped up, "But we do, Your Highness!" He nodded to Dorothy, who pulled a small bottle out of her pocket with a trembling hand. She held it up to me and said, "We found this in the Witch's trunk."

            I gasped and grabbed my heart, which was beating out of my body. As I held the small emerald bottle with "Miracle Eli-" written on the front by a shaky hand, memories flooded back to me. My arrival in Oz, the bartender at the _Trotting Horse Inn _handing me a bottle saying, "Here, this'll cure anything you've got," and the beautiful, hospitable woman. All I could recall from that night was pouring the hissing emerald green liquid into two mugs. 

            "Very well," I croaked. "What do you want from me?"

            The list went on: a brain, a heart, courage. All were granted. Finally I asked Dorothy, "And you?"

            "A way home," she said with conviction.

            I sighed deeply. "That I can't give you. Go to Glinda, she'll know what to do." Dorothy nodded, and I could see she was holding back tears, so I offered to paternal reassurance, for the first time in my life. "Don't worry. I promise Glinda can fix you up."

            Finally the boy said, "Sir, I have something I want."

            "Which is?"

            "As I know, you have the Arjiki princess, Nor, imprisoned. I want her freed."

            I fixed my eyes on him. He had my nose. My pointy, but strong nose. "Alas, I cannot do that. I sent her to a fortress in the Vinkus. If you still want her free, search for her there." He nodded grimly.

            I stared at the green bottle. How could I have not known? She showed so many of my own qualities. Stubborn, impatient, quick to anger. "Leave me," I said, choking on my words. 

            I watched as they marched out, with my grandson leaving last. "Liir, wait!" I said suddenly. He turned.

            "Did you- did you know her name?"

            He looked at me with empathy, as though he could read every thought in my mind. "Nanny called her by it. It was Elphaba."

I nodded as the boy left. Elphaba. A beautiful name. I broke down in tears as soon as the door was securely shut behind them.

            Truly I was the great and powerful Wizard of Oz. 

            For I had sent Dorothy to kill my own daughter. 

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